Daily Archives: August 19, 2008

Frank

“Dog movies” will always have a place on family video shelves, a matter proven by the fact that we’re already four films deep in the Beethoven franchise, and reconfirmed by the existence of Frank, a genial family flick about reconnection as facilitated by a big, slobbering pooch.

Directed by Douglas Cheney — who presumably isn’t listed in the phone book as D. Cheney, or else he would have had to field some crank calls — Frank follows the story of a mangy mutt and how he brings a troubled family closer together. When the York clan, headed by Colin (Jon Gries, aka Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite) and Jennifer (Cynthia Watros), retreat to their summer cabin, they hope the idyllic lakeside setting will wash away their petty squabbles and day-to-day worries. But before the coals on the first campfire are cool, their world is turned upside down when 9-year-old Patrick (Ashton Dierks) stumbles upon the creature “terrorizing” the locals — a big, drooling, lovable bull mastiff that comes to be known as Frank. Much to the initial dismay of their dad, whose lunches and fix-it projects suffer mightily courtesy of his paws and drool, Frank reminds both rambunctious Patrick and teenage daughter Anna (Brittany Robertson) that family vacations are about being together and loving one another. Colin comes around in the end, and Jennifer rekindles her love of drawing — something she put on hold to have a family.

Written by Robin Bradford, Frank is aimed chiefly at kids, and for that less demanding subset it works OK as a piece of entertainment. It isn’t purely slapstick-y, but the musical selections and framing are all canted to their predetermined likes, and whittled down so as to accommodate their points-of-view. The acting is for the most part so-so, with Robertson proving the real find of the film. Newcomer Dierks is no Spencer Breslin, that’s for sure, and he doesn’t even really successfully emulate the kiddie actor that he’s clearly been most coached to impersonate — Jonathan Lipnicki, of Jerry Maguire (and, later, The Little Vampire). Not fair to bag on a kid actor? Maybe, but if you’re trying to match human-cute with dog-cute, you need someone a bit more pliable, to set up the pity the story looks to plumb. That said, the production value here is fairly nice, and the wonderful, in-the-round setting gives the movie a warm, lived-in feeling that separates it from a lot of straight-to-video product.

Frank comes in a regular Amray case, presented in 16×9 widescreen, with an English language 5.1 Dolby digital surround sound audio track, and optional English SDH and Spanish subtitles. As for supplemental extras, there are seven minutes of deleted scenes, presented in time-coded fashion. There’s also a five-minute featurette on Littlebrook Farm, where the movie was shot. The bit is produced a bit like a salad dressing commercial, but property owners Deneise (yeah, that’s how she spells it) and Paul Hastings talk warmly about their connection to the home and land (the log cabin in the movie was built by Deneise’s grandfather), and come across as earnest, decent folk. Wrapping things up are previews for other First Look Studios releases and Summer in Siberia’s three-minute, flash-laden music video “Starving for Salmon,” produced for the movie and featuring lots of integrated clips of its cast and crew. To purchase the movie on DVD via Amazon, click here. C+ (Movie) C+ (Disc)

Prom Night

A solid earner that premiered to $20.8 million on April 11, en route to a $43.8 million domestic haul, Prom Night is a moderately well done slice of stalking teen horror, courtesy of some invested work by first-time feature director Nelson McCormick. Starring Brittany Snow in the Neve Campbell role, as a teenager who’s also the object of obsession for the murderer of her mother, the movie doesn’t offer much that’s new in the way of story or twists,  or even revelatory performances, but the glossy finish and snap-fit of its component parts at least make it palatable for those for whom it was chiefly designed.

For Donna Keppel (Snow, above) senior prom is supposed to be the best night of her life. After surviving a horrible tragedy several years earlier, she’s moved in with her aunt and uncle (Jessalyn Gilsig and Linden Ashby) and finally moved on a bit, enjoying her last year of high school. Surrounded by her best friends, she should be safe from the horrors of her past. But when her prom night turns deadly, there’s only one person who could be responsible — former teacher Richard Fenton (Johnathon Schaech), a man Donna thought was gone forever. Now, as Detective Winn (Idris Elba) works to track Fenton down, Donna and her friends (a group that includes Scott Porter, Jessica Stroup, Dana Davis, Brianne Davis and Kellan Lutz) must find a way to escape the sadistic rampage of an obsessed killer, and survive a night “to die for.”

The big screen debut of acclaimed television director McCormick (Prison Break, and many other hour-long serials), Prom Night is a film that gets the most out of its meager budget. Penned by horror veteran J.S. Cardone (The Covenant, The Forsaken), the movie invests both in back story and the investigatory strand headed up by Winn, to decently differentiating effect. There’s a half-hour to 35 minutes spanning the second and third acts that very much recalls something like When a Stranger Calls, wherein Donna’s friends are cornered and picked off. But eventually the movie escapes its hotel setting, providing a small gasp of originality before a very pat, familiar ending.

Fairly attractive but still snakebit by bad small screen habits, Snow does that scrunchy-face thing an awful lot, like she’s entering some Renee Zellweger impersonation contest. The best work is actually turned in by Schaech, who captures the zombification of true obsessiveness, wherein psychotics kill not in willy-nilly fashion, but based on need and opportunity, to escape a particular situation or do away with a (human) obstacle to their pursuit. The rest of the kids generally acquit themselves; certainly they’ll have an easier time booking gigs based on the film’s commercial performance.

A cardboard slipcover masks the regular, plastic Amray case in which the unrated edition of Prom Night is sold. Presented in 2.40:1 anamorphic widescreen, with an English language Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio mix, the movie not too surprisingly embraces the concept of volume when it comes to supplemental extras. An audio commentary track with director McCormick, Snow and Schaech kicks things off, and there are plenty of compliments to go around, in addition to production detail provided by McCormick.

A two-minute gag reel finds Stroup getting a door handle to the butt in one sequence; there’s also a completely worthless five-minute “video yearbook” comprised of material strung together to play in the background at the movie’s prom. Five minutes of deleted scenes with optional commentary show more character stuff, including more of Fenton’s escape from prison (modeled after one of Ted Bundy’s escapes, McCormick tells us), while the sticker-touted alternate ending is in actuality just a 30-second clip that freeze-frames a portion of the original ending, and slaps on it a line of whispery voiceover.

A 13-minute making-of featurette includes interviews with cast and crew; most interesting is cinematographer Checco Varese, a former CNN stringer and war photojournalist, who talks about closing the shutter angle of the camera to achieve the jittery, fractious look of its final chase sequences. There’s a five-minute look at the creation of the Grand Hotel set (yawn), while another featurette, “Profile of a Killer,” runs about six minutes, and finds writer Cardone mostly explaining his research process in crafting the screenplay. Most amusing, though, may be a six-minute bit which finds the cast sharing real prom stories of their own; Porter turns out to be the pimp of the group, racking up six total prom nights. Well played, kid — hope that worked out for you. Click here for a clip from the film. To purchase the movie on unrated DVD via Amazon, click here. C (Movie) B (Disc)